


I Remember

by orphan_account



Series: Bad Things Happen 1.0 [8]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Budding Love, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Not Related, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt, Gaslighting, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Pseudo-Incest, Sympathetic Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, but roman thinks they are for a little bit, everyone else leans unsympathetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Roman remembers things that don’t make sense. Things from before the concepts of light and dark sides existed—but not quite as far back as the King. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t remember anything from back then, which means that these memories come from somewhere else. A time in between, maybe.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders
Series: Bad Things Happen 1.0 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928308
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	I Remember

Roman remembers things that don’t make sense. Things from before the concepts of light and dark sides existed—but not quite as far back as the King. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t remember _anything_ from back then, which means that these memories come from somewhere else. A time in between, maybe.

_Evenings spent in the imagination, sharing freshly-made cookies and chocolate._

_Lying under a tree, curled up against someone’s side, fingers intertwined and a soft tune hummed softly near his ear._

_Kisses peppered over his face between fits of giggles, striking green eyes holding a defiant, playful likeness to them._

He’s tried to bring it up. He used to, when the memories first started to crop up and he’d been lost, confused, even terrified. After all, what could possibly be the reason behind these memories? Why now? He and Remus—they’d never been together, had they? What is going _on_ with him?

But every time he’s brought it up—

_What? A relationship? You’ve never been in a relationship before._

—he’s been shut down, again and again—

_I don’t remember anything like that. You must be confused._

—to the point where just thinking about it is enough to make him feel ill—

_You’re brothers, dude. There’s no way you two dated, that’d just be weird._

—because what if they’re right? What if he’s wrong?

_Oh, don’t be silly, Roman! Nobody’s ever been with you like that, I would know! No need to worry about it, okay, kiddo?_

What if the memories aren’t true and he really does just have an “overactive imagination?”

(And what is he supposed to do if that’s the case?)

Roman stands in front of Remus, the recollections leaving his mouth for a final time, his hair a mess and his eyes frantic, hoping, praying, desperately, that this will lead to something, anything. All he needs is an answer.

Remus stares at him, those striking green eyes filled with a kind of discomfort he’s never really seen in his brother before, the other side rocking back on his heels and clicking his tongue. He thinks, but of course, Roman doesn’t have to wait for long, because the others may try to hide the truth from him—hell, he might even try to hide the truth from _himself_ —but if there’s anyone who’s willing to be honest, it’s Remus.

_Are we brothers?_

_Is Thomathy the Pope? Nah. That’s just somethin’ the others say to keep us from murdering each other._

_Okay. Did we…did we date?_

_…A long time ago, yeah._

Roman doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Remus wipes his tears away and pulls him into a hug. It’s warm, and it’s comforting, and Roman squeezes back, years of confusion and pain and self-loathing all melting away into relief. Only one thought remains.

_I’m not losing it after all._


End file.
